Reflective
by i-love-svu
Summary: A look back at Lady Heather's relationship with Grissom. From Heather's point of view, rated T just to be safe.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI.

**Author's Note: **I wrote this for a very dear friend of mine, and was not going to post it here at first. But the lack of Gil/Heather stories made me change my mind. I hope you like this story as much as she did.

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_Slaves of Las Vegas_

I was very intrigued by him the moment he stepped into my dominion. He seemed different, possibly considered odd by his colleagues. I was not sure at first, I will admit that much. He was much more difficult to read than I had expected. When they entered, Captain Brass, Catherine Willows, and finally Gil Grissom, he was the only one who seemed to be a mix of confused and interested. The other two were obviously confused, and probably a little scared. I understood that and I do not blame them. Had I visited a dominatrix without knowing very much about the profession, I would have been frightened also.

He asked the most genuine questions, inquiries that displayed how interested he was. You watched that childlike quality emerge, a sort of yearning both to learn more and to please you at the same time, and found yourself fascinated by him. He circled your office, taking him time to observe everything. Anytime a question arose, you answered it quickly but patiently, leaving plenty of room for him to expand with more questions if he felt it was necessary. It was a learning experience for you both, to be around someone who matched your intellect so clearly. At the end of the day, when he returned with more questions about the case he was working on, you asked him to join you for tea. Perhaps if you had known where things would end up, you may not have selected that path. But a part of you knows better.

_Lady Heather's Box_

Your next encounter, one that took place the following year, was more eventful. It began in a good nature, your friendly banter bringing a smile to your face. He seemed very at ease around you, which brought a smile to your face. Mr. Brass noticed this also, as Gil commented on your lips and your cheeks became flushed with maroon. The two left promptly after that, with Gil glancing back at you while they departed.

Later that day, Gil returned to your dominion, but he was alone this time. You spoke briefly of the case with him, as you made your way through the winding halls. The soft tone of your voice easily filled the silence in that wing of the house. A standard practice for you, Gil observed as you lit three candles. Somewhere in the back of your mind a voice told you not to light three; lighting three candles was a way of attracting romance, set forth by those who had beliefs linked to Wicca. You knew this because your mother practiced the lifestyle, and it had always fascinated you. But this man, the one who was standing behind you, was barely an acquaintance. You had met him once before. Romance should not have been a goal with him in your mind. Still, you struck a third match and held it to the candle wick, ignoring your instincts.

You learned that he was losing his hearing, at least until he could have corrective surgery. And even then, the doctors knew that it would not be perfect. Before you could say anything even the least bit comforting, he reached up and cupped your face, his blue eyes meeting your green.

"You can always say stop," He whispered.

"So can you," was your calm reply, despite the chaos that had been unleashed inside of your body at the tone of his words. Later that evening, after a few items of clothing had been shed and the passion had considerably escalated, he did ask you to stop. Merely because he felt horrible about almost sleeping with you when he did not even know your last name. With a sly smile, you slowly fastened the few loose buttons of your corset and invited him to join you for some tea. That was an admirable quality in a man, you realized, and if you could not have sex with him, tea was an acceptable replacement.

The morning after, during breakfast, you revealed that you are diabetic. You watched his eyes fill with an emotion, concern perhaps, and as he asked a few more questions. Then, he arose from his chair and made a call from his cell phone. It would have been hard not to hear what he was saying, considering that he was only a few feet away. He was requesting a search warrant for your diabetic supplies, which made your cheeks flush again. You hardly knew this man, you had almost slept with him, and now he was accusing you of murder? The mistake embarrassed you, that you had made such an error in judgment.

While you sat silently and waited for the police car to arrive, you noticed that Gil could not bring himself to look at you. This only contributed to your anger and embarrassment. Once the car pulled into the driveway and collected the supposed evidence, you disappeared to your private quarters without another word. He attempted to say something, but you could not catch the entire thing and honestly did not want to.

The following day, he appeared at the front door of the dominion once again. This time, Mr. Brass was at his side. You wondered if Gil thought that he needed protection from you. The thought almost made you laugh. You were polite, with a hint of abruptness, when it came to answering the detective's questions. Once he left the room, Gil immediately told you that he owed you an apology. "Apologies are just words," You answered in a soft tone, and then left the room.

And later that night, when Gil parked outside of the dominion, you closed the curtains of your room and turned the lights off. Still, he stayed there for most of the evening, until it was almost dawn. As he slowly drove away, you hoped it would be the last time that you ever saw him.

_Pirates of the Third Reich_

That wish was true for three years. You were perfectly content being away from him, your mind vacant when it came to thinking of him. That was, until you saw the body of your daughter on the news. At that moment, you realized that he would have to see you again. Witness you at what could only be described as the most difficult thing a parent could ever go through.

You did not speak to Gil first, which you were thankful for. Even after three years, you were not ready quite yet to face him. Mr. Brass spoke to you first, being as patient and caring as he could allow himself to be. While he did not quite comprehend your profession, he did understand your pain.

The face-to-face with Gil came a little later. He was waiting as you exited the morgue, after you had just positively identified the body of your daughter. A numb feeling had settled in your body and was making it a little hard to breathe normally. Although in shock, you answered each of Gil's questions. Albeit with a hint of anger and even a trace of needing to feel comforted. Only the first was tied to Gil, but the second was something that he could have fulfilled had he wanted to.

Everything surrounding Zoe's death is a blur to you. From the moment you saw her on the local news to after you discovered who murdered her. Only moments, very brief recollections, come back to you when you least expect it. You do remember one thing that happened, one thing in particular that truly stands out. When you sought revenge on Zoe's killer. The details are a little fuzzy, but you do recall the form of torture you inflicted upon him. Your weapon was a bullwhip, and you did unleash your fury upon the man, until Gil arrived and stopped you. After that, you lost consciousness due to the shock and a deficiency of insulin. You had not checked your blood sugar level since you saw Zoe in the morgue.

Gil stayed with you for two days, from what one of your girls told you. From what she told you, it sounded as if he wanted to stay longer but they were desperately in need of him at the lab. You felt bad for not remembering that Gil had taken care of you. Knowing him, he probably felt just as guilty knowing that he could not have stayed with you longer. Little did either of you know, but he would be able to make it up to you.

_The Good, the Bad, and the Dominatrix _

Everything had changed so drastically. Five years earlier when you met Gil you had a successful business, your daughter was working her way through her second year in college, and you were happy. Now, you have sold your business, your daughter is dead, and you are suicidal. Well, you were suicidal about two days ago. Now you are happy again, as you cradle your sleeping granddaughter in your arms. After a year of searching, court dates, and crushed hope, you have finally met your granddaughter. Alison Kessler, the name flashes in your mind. You have yet to discover her middle name but that is hardly a problem. You are simply overjoyed to be holding her.

You sold your business with the hopes of giving Alison the chance to be whoever she wanted, once she was old enough to make that decision. The money was safe in a trust fund, which you set up with almost all of your profits from selling your life. That part was kept secret, a detail you felt was best kept to yourself. You are not entirely sure when you made the decision to attempt suicide. It was within the previous few weeks, when things became exceedingly hard. You found a man who was willing to pay to end your life; he got off on that sort of thing and you were hardly in the position to judge him. Everything was going as planned until a security guard found you.

You awoke in the hospital with an odd feeling in your throat when you attempted to swallow. The doctor later informed you that the man's attempt had nearly crushed your windpipe, and that you were lucky to be able to breathe on your own. Soon after that, Mr. Brass showed up to interrogate you. He was obviously less than thrilled to be seeing you again, and you wished that he would leave the room because you were not in the mood to put up with his tone. Just as you were becoming thoroughly annoyed, a woman entered the room, much to your relief. She introduced herself, although her name escapes you now, and Mr. Brass left just after that.

The woman was much more sympathetic than Mr. Brass had been, and you were thankful for that. She photographed your bruises and as she moved to collect your clothes, you noticed that Gil was standing in the doorway of your room. Your ability to read people had not vanished and you noticed something pass between them; affection on the woman's part, but Gil was impassive. She left promptly after that, leaving Gil by your bedside. He did stay for quite a while, at least until the nurse came in to tell him that visiting hours were over.

You signed yourself out of the hospital the next day, as soon as the doctor would let you. He was extremely reluctant to let you go, but he could not make you stay and thus handed you the proper forms to sign. You spent that night with Gil in your almost empty house, just talking. His excuse for showing up was that he did not want you to be alone. Clandestinely, you were thankful to have him there.

One last time, you were desperate to end it all. You contacted the same man, and he agreed to try again. The police had somehow figured your plan out and burst in before you could even get the rope around your neck. The man was taken away, and Mr. Brass told you that he did not expect the district attorney to press charges. At the time, it did not matter to you. Death was the only thing on your mind.

The next day, Gil appeared once again. You only wanted to be left alone, but he could not take a hint. He said that there was someone he wanted you to meet, and your curiosity got the best of you. Stepping outside, your hand safely within Gil's, you saw who he had been talking about. Your ex-husband, Jerome, with a little girl in his arms. Your granddaughter, you realized after a moment. With an unsure glance up at Gil, he gave you a nod that meant you could go ahead. Your eyes gave away how thankful you were, and you slowly made your way toward the pair at the opposite end of the porch.

After smiling at the grandfather and granddaughter pair, Jerome gently handed the toddler in his arms to you. Alison took to you immediately, her tiny arms wrapping around you neck to the best of her ability. Your mood improved greatly after that. You had a smile on your face for the entire evening. After reading "Green Eggs and Ham" to Alison and watching her facial expressions, you even laughed for a moment. All the while Gil and Jerome sat in the wicker chairs behind you two, observing the interaction between Alison and yourself.

When it was time for Jerome to take Alison home, you carefully placed the toddler in her car seat and fastened each of the buckles. She was asleep, and you carefully placed a kiss on her forehead. Then, unexpectedly, Jerome gave you a hug as you reluctantly pulled yourself from the backseat of the car. He did not say anything as he loosened his hold and climbed into the driver seat, but did give a caring look that made you realize just how wrong your situation was.

"I hope you didn't mind us just dropping in," Gil said quietly as you watched the car leave.

"Not at all," You replied quickly, and with another smile. Placing his hand on the small of your back, Gil guided you into the house. "It's getting cold out here."

On the porch, just before the front door, you stopped. His face filled with concern, Gil looked down at you and patiently waited for an explanation. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around him, ignoring the pain that shot through your exhausted body. When you finally pulled back, he was smiling.

"I'll make us some tea," He offered, his grin staying firmly in place.

With a nod, you followed him into the house. It was going to take some adjusting to get used to your house being so empty, but as it does will all change, you were willing to try. Sliding into the chair that Gil had pulled out for you, you returned the smile. "I would like that," You replied honestly. And for the first time in quite a while, you felt it would be nice to have Gil around for a while.


End file.
